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by ThePandaPopo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 3 times, AU, Alternate Universe, Canon, Goddess!Byleth, M/M, Pirate AU, Pirates, Regular Canon, Zombie AU, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePandaPopo/pseuds/ThePandaPopo
Summary: No matter what world or what timeline they exist in, Felix and Sylvain will always find each other.ORByleth becomes an omniscient immortal goddess that lists her top three favourite SylVix weddings that span across a variety of alternate universes and worlds.ORYou gave me a wedding prompt and I gave you a three for one deal.Written for Sylvix Week 2020
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





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**Author's Note:**

> AU in which all the canon stuff happens but Sothis is actually the goddess of multiple universes and when Byleth merges with her, she gets to see Sylvix reincarnated in world after world, but no matter what they always find each other. This is her POV recalling her three favourite weddings.
> 
> The pirate one was definitely inspired by Pirates of the Carribean because that scene was so ridiculous and all I could think about was how it was SylVix level dumb.

There are not many things in this existence that Byleth finds beautiful, not anymore at least. After living for centuries upon centuries and in worlds that one could only dream of, it was safe to say that Byleth had pretty much exhausted all there was to see in terms of beautiful things.

But one thing she will always watch over fondly and with such heart rending piety that makes her wonder if perhaps there is a god even greater than her, is the way Felix and Sylvain’s souls always find their way back to each other, regardless of what life, regardless of what world, and regardless of what circumstances shape them.

\----

The first world that Byleth has the pleasure of attending their wedding is in her original life. It is the life that she remembers the most vividly and fondly, back when everything was so new and yet not because of the soul of the progenitor god that resides within her.

The cathedral in Garreg Mach is strewn with swathes of teal and maroon fabrics, hanging from the ceilings in graceful arcs interspersed with pristine white. Blue and Red Salvia pepper the towering columns in the empty pockets where the ivy parts way to reveal long expanses of white stone, restored over years of hard work and loving care.

At the base of the altar near the head of the room, Byleth stands tall and proud as the officiant of this historical event, the joining of two territories through marriage in the traditional sense, but also so wholly untraditional in the fact that it is a Duke and Margrave committing to each other in a gesture that has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with building a future free of unspoken rules and obligations.

“Stop fidgeting,” Ingrid hisses at Sylvain from her position as Best Maiden. She is a vision herself in her Gautier red gown that is just practical enough that Hilda and Annette didn’t have to blackmail her too much into wearing.

Across from her, Dimitri – Felix’s Best Man - is also staring at the shifty groom who looks like he is half a minute away from bursting into either hysterical laughter or tears. It’s a bit of an odd sight seeing the King of Fodlan _not_ standing center stage for once, but just for today, he has gladly traded in his royal garments for a simple, but smart looking military style get up (not unlike their old school uniform) in Fraldarius blue.

And in the middle of all of them standing right by Byleth’s side is their very own Sylvain Jose Gautier, dressed in his finest linens with a black jacket lined with crimson fur and golden thread. Draped across his front is an expanse of teal cloth that sweeps back over his shoulders and billows out in a magnificent cape emblazoned with both the Gautier and Fraldarius crests. Although Sylvain has always looked noble in his own way, his roguish grin has always softened the edges of his appearance with a mask of carefree immaturity. Today though, he looks every bit the mature esteemed war general turned Margrave; his shoulders are pulled back and he stands tall even though they all know that there are more than a few individuals in the crowd who oppose this marriage. Standing next to him, Byleth can literally feel the air of assured confidence that a person exudes when they know that they are doing something so fundamentally right, that there is no way that it isn’t fate.

If anyone had told them that Sylvain would be the first person among them to be married, a trip to the infirmary for hallucination would have been the follow up course of action. But here, standing at the altar under the beaming mid afternoon sun streaming through the windows, there is nothing that seems more natural.

Even if Sylvain won’t stop fidgeting.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri’s eyes are wide with suspicion and dread, “you’re not getting cold feet, are you? Goddess, Felix will kill you.”

“Yeah, and not even the pretend kill either. He’s going to really, truly run you through with his favourite sword. That you happened to get him, might I remind you.” Ingrid elbows him again, the sharp pain a gentler reminder of what pain he might be subject to in the near future if he really is considering ditching his own wedding. In the middle of the ceremony. With hundreds of guests around them.

“No, I’m not getting cold feet.” Sylvain rolls his eyes and tenderly rubs his ribs where Ingrid keeps jabbing him. “I’m just… I don’t know. I’m impatient. We’ve been standing up here _forever_.”

And of course, in typical Felix fashion, he just has to be proven wrong when the massive oaken doors at the entrance of the cathedral open with a groan, just barely audible over the swelling sound of the music changing and the rustling of clothes as their guests stand to welcome in the other groom.

The first time that Byleth gets to witness Sylvain’s entire world fall apart and click back together like two perfect puzzle pieces, is when he catches sight of Felix, led down the aisle by a beaming Annette, and breathtakingly resplendent in all white.

Blown out pupils obscure burnt sienna as they rake over the vision that is Duke Fraldarius walking slowly towards him with what looks to be the most obnoxiously long dress coat ever tailed. It clings to his lithe form sinfully from his shoulders down to his hips in such a way that coax’s Sylvain’s tongue to swipe across his lips, before draping and flaring back in a style reminiscent of a bridal train. The very same golden stitching that weaves through Sylvain’s jacket also glows ethereally in Felix’s clothes, which only serves to emphasize the silky midnight waterfall that has been tamed and woven into a side braid. Atop his crown sits a golden circlet that dips and meets in the center of his brow, adorned with a topaz flanked by two garnet rubies.

It is the first time that Byleth prays to the goddess and thanks Sothis for allowing these two souls, who are just so right for each other, to finally, _finally_ get the happiness they so deserve.

When Felix’s golden gaze finally flutters up beneath inky lashes to meet Sylvain’s, the air in the room charges with tangible electricity and chuckles murmur through the crowd as both Ingrid and Annette reach out simultaneously to stop their respective grooms from bolting towards each other.

By the time Annette hands Felix off to Sylvain, both men are staring at each other with such blatant reverence and awe that Byleth almost feels bad for clearing her throat and ruining the moment.

“Dearly beloved, thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate the union of Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Margrave Sylvain Jose Gautier.”

Somewhere to her right, Annette stifles a happy sob and the couple share a small, amused smile.

“The most remarkable moment in life is when you meet the person who makes you feel complete; the person with whom you share a bond so special that it transcends time and space and is something so pure and so wonderful, that you cannot imagine a life or world without them. For Felix and Sylvain, that moment happened back when they were children and too young to know what love meant, but old enough to know how love felt. Many of you know their story already; some of you have had the privilege to walk along side them as they each wrote their tale. But what we all have in common today is that we get to witness the moment when they begin to write their story together.”

Later in the evening, Sylvain will tease Dimitri about how constipated he looked trying to unsuccessfully supress his tears while also desperately trying not to crush the small pouch in his hands that contained Sylvain’s wedding band.

“Now, I do believe that you two have written your own vows. Sylvain, would you like to go first?”

There is a beat after Byleth asks her question before Sylvain can escape the fogginess of his mind that is filled with thoughts of _Fe, Fe, Fe_ and comprehend what is being asked of him.

“It’s in your breast pocket,” Ingrid hisses behind him.

It’s true. Sylvain can feel the folded piece of parchment tucked snugly against his chest above his heart, but there is something in Felix’s mesmerized gaze that stays his hand and sends it reaching instead for smaller, scarred and callous ones.

“Felix…” his breath escapes him like a prayer. “My darling and dearest Fe.”

Honey brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears and Sylvain feels his chest tighten, squeezing out the lyrics of the song his heart has long been singing, but never aloud.

“For a person who has always had a silver tongue, it’s a wonder how you manage to steal all the words from me every single time. I could still try to wax poetic about how lovely you are or how lethal you look with a blade in your hand, but I feel like if I do either or those, you might just stab me.”

A soft snort and misty glare confirm his suspicion and Sylvain lets out a watery chuckle.

“Do you remember the promise we made as kids? Back then, we didn’t really know what it meant to die together, but we promised each other that anyways because the only thing we knew for certain was that we didn’t want to live without each other.”

Sylvain’s lungs burn with the effort it takes to inhale through the sobs that want to escape him. The rapid thumping of his heart threatens to burst out of his chest, and it nearly overwhelms him before a gentle hand brushes away a stray tear that has managed to escape its confines. Unwittingly, more tears fall even as Sylvain grounds himself with Felix’s touch and forges on.

“Fe, I have loved you for a very long time, even though I may not have known it. I have loved you since we were young children and you would sit in my lap for hours as I read story after story to you. I have loved you since we were old enough to train together and you would trounce me spectacularly even though I had the weapon advantage and you were such a scrawny brat. I loved you even through Glenn’s death when you shoved everyone around you away, building up the walls around your heart that I wanted so desperately to see again. I loved you when we met again at the officer’s academy and I tried to drown my problems in women and empty dalliances, and even through the war where I was so terrified that you would die before I could ever confess my feelings for you.

But Fe… despite how long I’ve loved you, I vow to you today that I will continue to love you for even longer in the years ahead. Dying is easy, but living is so much harder, and so that is why I want to build on our promise and vow to always stand by your side and _live_ the rest of my life with you. I have loved you all my life, Felix Hugo, and I cannot imagine what my life would be without that constant. It grows each and every day, filling my heart more than I ever thought possible. Goddess… I love you Fe. I love you so very much, my beloved, and I hope that one day I’ll find the perfect words to tell you that, but for now, before all these people, I give you my heart and soul because it has always been yours from the start.”

Sylvain’s heart aches with the raw truth and gravity of his words that are so filled with love, bursting from his heart and overflowing from his eyes only to be brushed away gently by the very man who encompasses his thoughts every minute of every day. But despite how shaky his breath is, Sylvain’s hands are steady as he slips the onyx band onto the ring finger of Felix’s left hand.

“Felix? Would you like to read your vows?” It is dead silent in the cathedral, save for the few sniffs and hiccups from their closest friends.

“Sylvain.”

Byleth can see the moment that Felix steels his resolve in the same way he does right before entering battle. Right now, Felix is fighting his own demons, but he is determined to win because he owes it to Sylvain to be just as raw and open as he has laid himself out to be.

“Sylvain. I… we both know that I’m not good at words, but I want to try, for you, because I know that sometimes the voices in your head try to convince you that you’re not worthy of love, and I want to shut them up once and for all by laying everything bare in front of all these people.”

It’s funny and honestly a little bit unfair, Felix thinks to himself, how Sylvain still looks so breathtakingly beautiful even while dripping snot and fully on ugly crying.

“I’m not a good partner, Sylvain. And before you interrupt me, just shut up and listen to the rest of what I have to say. I’m not a good partner because unlike you, I don’t know how to use my words to communicate my feelings. No matter how hard I try, it always comes out sharp and… and wrong. But even though I’m just so fucking awful at it, you somehow always seem to understand me.” Felix pauses to steady his breathing and blink away the tears that are beginning to blur his favourite view.

“I honestly never thought I could have this. I didn’t think there was a future for us because I was so sure that one day you would get fed up with me and leave. But you didn’t. No matter how much I pushed you away, or how many insults I threw your way even though what I really wanted to say was the complete opposite, you always stayed there by my side through thick and thin. And what’s more, you always understood what I was really trying to say.

I hate illogical things. I hate the idea of dying for someone or doing something I hate just because someone else happens to like it. But you… Sylvain, you make me want to do all of those things.”

Felix falters a little, swallowing the lump in his throat that wants to stop his closest guarded secret from slipping out.

“It doesn’t make any sense and it honestly frustrates me just how unwaveringly confident I am that I would die for you in a heartbeat. I would willingly go to those operas that you love so much even though I can’t stand them just so I can see that one smile that makes the world around me fall away. With you, I want to do the things that I’ve always shunned. I want to get married to you. I want to become your husband. I want to adopt children and raise a family with you. I want to grow old with you and spend our days sitting in front of a fire watching our grandchildren run around causing all sorts of mayhem that they probably learned from you.”

“So today, I will vow to you to live with you through whatever bullshit might come our way. I vow to love you until our dying breaths and beyond. But the greatest vow I will make you today, is the vow to lay down my blade and put to rest any lingering thoughts of becoming a mercenary because… because a life with you… loving you… I want that more than anything in the world. I love you, Syl.”

All around them, their friends beam at them through tears and, in Annette and surprisingly Dimitri’s case, elated blubbering. Felix wastes no time grabbing the ring from his king and slipping it onto Sylvain’s ring finger because one minute longer not being married to his favourite idiot is one more minute wasted.

No one cares that Byleth doesn’t even get to say her final line prompting them to kiss because they both lunge at each other at the same time, the crowd around them cheering and whooping, their voices echoing through the halls and much longer in Byleth’s memories.

\----

Byleth’s second favourite wedding between Felix and Sylvain is unfortunately not one that she gets to officiate.

Instead, she’s busy parrying the downward strike of a soggy half pirate, half sea creature and returning a blow of her own and painting the floor beneath them a murky ink color as she cuts into its shoulder. Their ship has been boarded by Davy Jones’ and they barely have time to fire an SOS flare into the sky before they are overrun with the cursed pirates.

“Did someone call for backup?”

Sylvain’s hair is plastered to his forehead from the salty spray, but his crimson hair is still more than easy to spot from where it pops up from their starboard side where his own ship has anchored itself to the Aegis. His men let out a mighty battle cry as they dash across the wooden planks connecting their ships while others swing in from above on ropes hanging from the towering mast.

“You’re late, you fucking asshole!” Felix shouts above the sound of his handheld pistol firing straight into the face of an unfortunate pirate. The thick clam like shells around his body is explanation enough of why Felix is using his gun instead of his sword which he favors.

“Aw, Fe. Don’t be like that! You know I’d never ignore a distress call from you!”

“Then next time answer it _sooner_!”

Felix ducks when Sylvain jumps off the ledge over him and thrusts his own sword into an enemy that had been sneaking up behind him. Despite being rival captains of their own pirate ships, Sylvain and Felix fight like a well-oiled machine, slipping in and out of each other’s space and covering any blind spots that are exposed. It’s a bit odd seeing them fight in such a different style, but Byleth still admires the fierce skill in which Felix takes down his opponents while Sylvain always approaches more cautiously, using tactics and ploys that befit his strategic mind.

Absolute chaos reigns around the two of them and the clashing of swords peppered intermittently with the loud cracks of gunpowder igniting fill the air. The smell of the sea all around them is thick with the lingering smell of burnt sulphur and even more so the irony tint of blood.

“Are the two lovebirds bickering again?” Claude grins at Byleth as he sidesteps a tackle and plunges his blade through the back of the stumbling figure. His Golden Deer cape billows out as he turns and the bright yellow is a beacon of hope to the rest of their crew. Normally, Byleth herself would be wearing one as well, but she has been on loan from Claude and spending the past month or so aboard the Aegis with Felix helping him navigate some truly terrible waters.

“Yes. Although I do wish they would find a better time to do so.” Claude can practically hear her eye roll which just makes it all the more amusing to him.

“Byleth, you wound me! There’s never a better time for… well, anything really, than the present!” Sylvain laughs, but immediately grimaces when the body whose head he lopped off drenches him in black ichor.

Beside him, Felix looks at the new stains on his already disgusting pants and scowls. “Be more careful, you idiot! I can’t save you if you poison yourself by accidentally ingesting some of that toxic shit.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, regret burns through him and ignites his cheeks with flames.

“Oooh. Is Felix Fraldarius actually worried about me?”

“Shut up before I run you through with my sword.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Fe. Because you loooooove me.”

“ _Sylvain_. I swear I’m going to-“

Suddenly a body goes sailing past them and Hilda stomps out from below decks where she has clearly fought her way out of. She points her axe menacingly at the two captains and if Felix didn’t just see her send a full-grown man six flying feet, Felix would have laughed. “If you’re not going to fight, then at least kiss already. We’re all sick and tired of you guys polluting the high seas with your stupid, angsty, rival love.”

“Well just because you’re bitter that your brother chases away all your-“

Sylvain doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Hilda swings her axe in a side swipe. It’s only from years of fighting that the red haired captain is able to duck in time, letting the blade of the axe connect with a unsuspecting enemy instead.

“Okay, okay! Touchy subject. I get it.”

Thankfully, their squabble fades into the chaos as they double down to repel the ghostly abominations from their ships.

However, like all the other worlds and lives in which Byleth has known Sylvain, he just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut for very long and is calling out for Felix even while more enemies somehow appear from the depths of the sea, truly outnumbering them two to one now.

“Hey Fe! Marry me.”

“ _What_?”

“Marry me!”

There’s an awkward pause, only punctuated with Felix quickly shoving his sword into an oncoming enemy.

“Sylvain, this is _not_ the time!”

“Come on, professor! Things are looking kinda bleak and I don’t really want to die without having married Fe.” Sylvain grins and shoots another enemy over his shoulder without even looking. “and plus it would totally boost morale!”

“I’m not marrying the two of you right now. Felix hasn’t even said yes yet, for crying out loud!”

Seriously, Byleth thinks to herself, she is getting way too old for this shit.

“Claude! If you won’t marry us, then Claude can! He’s a captain too, right?” Sylvain shouts up at the golden garbed leader who is sniping people from the safety of the foretop.

“Consent, Sylvain! Consent is important!” Hilda screams.

Another enemy falls from behind Felix and he turns to face Sylvain who has the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “Well, Fe? What do you say? Wanna get hitched?”

There’s a beat.

And then another.

And then,

“Claude. Marry us.”

Sylvain’s smirk is bigger than the time he struck literal gold.

“Gladly!” Claude laughs and doesn’t even blink as he shoots down enemies left and right. “ _Deerly_ beloved, we are gathered here today to-“

“ _Fuck your deer puns! Just get to the important shit._ ”

Clearly, Pirate Captain Felix is a lot less patient than Duke Felix. Or perhaps it is more to do with their current circumstance than the actual virtue.

“Jeez, fine fine! Uncultured swine, the lot of you, truly. Do you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, take Sylvain Jose Gautier to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, in scurvy and even at the bottom of Davy Jones’ locker?”

“I do.” Each word is punctuated by a sword slash and the enemies around their odd band of allies begins to thin.

“And do you, Sylvain Jose Gautier take Felix Hugo Fraldarius to be your lawfully wedded pirate booty husband? To treasure him more than literal treasure? To have him in all his grumpy glory and to hold him even when he threatens to stab you?”

For someone who is very likely to die in the next ten minutes and also covered in guts and ichor, Sylvain is incredibly happy when he chirps back a gleeful “I do!”.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the guy whose ship I stole after I killed him, I now pronounce you husband and husband. So fucking kiss already.”

It’s by no means their most glamourous wedding, but Byleth can’t help but remember fondly on the matching grins on Felix and Sylvain’s faces as they kissed in the middle of that god forsaken hell of a boat, looking for all the world like the two puzzle pieces that have always fit together perfectly no matter what color or shape they may morph into with the crossing of time and dimensions.

It is such a shame really, that their small moment of respite and happiness breaks when a terrified voice pierces through the cacophony of sound.

“ _KRAKEN_!”

\----

Byleth’s third favourite Felix and Sylvain wedding is one where she unfortunately doesn’t get to be there with them, no matter how much her heart aches. Instead, she watches them from above, in a space that no mortal (and honestly not even any god) can truly begin to comprehend nor describe.

“Close it, close it. Hurry the fuck up!” Felix’s voice echoes in the dilapidated church even though his voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “We can push the pews up against the door to bar it.”

Sylvain is exhausted and his chest is heaving from being on the run for the past day and a half, but he nods and gets to work anyways, heaving the heavy wooden benches over to where Felix is bracing his shoulder against the door in case any undead try to get in.

It takes a good while before either man feel safe enough to leave the door unattended. In a world overrun by zombies, there aren’t any second chances or lessons learned – one slip up is all it takes for death, or worse yet, turning into the undead.

When Sylvain’s heart and mind finally slow down enough to observe their surroundings, he wants to laugh at the absurd irony of it all. “A church? Seriously, Fe? I’m kinda surprised we didn’t burst into flames as soon as we crossed the threshold.”

“It was the best option. All the other buildings had too many entrances. This one only has the one door and all the windows are boarded up already.”

Felix is already unpacking their travel bag and setting up camp in a far corner away, tucked away from any line of vision from potential cracks in the boards or windows.

“It’s just, I thought you would automatically avoid churches; especially with how our parents tried to raise us.”

It’s a bit of a sore topic between the two of them, both having grown up as close family friend and their parents being extremely religious. Felix more so after his older brother died in the line of duty and Rodrigue fell to religion to cope.

When Felix and Sylvain came out as gay to their families, it was nothing short of awful. The Gautiers had immediately disowned Sylvain, and although he was expecting it – given their track record with Miklan who was also disowned for the same thing – it still hurt and left a large, gaping hole in his heart. Rodrigue on the other hand had only Felix left. Despite their differences, he was reluctant to lose the last family member he had, instead opting to pile brochures after brochures of conversion therapy camps on Felix’s desk until the metaphorical house of cards finally gave way to years of anger and resentment.

If either of them had known that would be the last time they would see their families before the world went to hell in a handbasket, Sylvain likes to think that maybe they would have tried a little harder to keep them in their lives.

“What’s wrong?”

Felix is looking at him with those piercing golden eyes that Sylvain adores so much. Right now, it’s the gaze that Felix uses whenever his curiosity is piqued but he knows not to push any boundaries. It’s because Felix knows when to push and pull, and how to follow the ebb and flow of his mind that Sylvain loves him with every fibre of his being.

“Just thinking,” he hums. He drags a dirt streaked hand through his hair and ignores the grimy feel of the sunset locks. “About how you’re the only family I have. The only family I want.” He clarifies when he sees the strange look on Felix’s face where he is stirring the can of soup over a pitiful fire.

They are silent for a while, letting only the wind whistling through the empty rafters overhead fill the gaps between them. If they were anyone else, the loud echoey hall would have allowed loneliness to slip its way into their space, but they’re not; they’re Felix and Sylvain, the two boys turned men who have always been at each other’s sides from diapers to survivors.

“You’re my family too.”

It’s only a whisper, but Sylvain hears the declaration clear as day and it sends his heart soaring to heights that are only possible whenever Felix is involved. So high, that a random thought manages to worm its way into his head and burrow itself deeper and deeper until Sylvain cannot help but blurt out:

“Have you ever thought about getting married? Us, I mean?”

Felix startles for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and Sylvain can see the beginnings of a blush sneak its way up his turtleneck collar.

“What?”

“Have you ever thought about us getting married?”

“Where is this coming from? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse here.”

Felix isn’t wrong, but his flaw was that he could never really see beyond the immediate task. Which is exactly why they worked so well together – Sylvain, admittedly, was all about smelling the flowers and walking wherever his path took him, while Felix had the discipline and determination to focus in one goal and hound it with unwavering precision.

Instead of answer, Sylvain walks up to the altar at the front of the room and lays a hand against the podium, his fingers dragging through the thick layer of dust and debris, leaving behind a trail of shiny wood that peaked at him from below.

“I’ve always dreamed of marrying you, you know.”

The admission slips from his lips like a dew drop off a petal, slowly at first, but then falling to gravity and splattering on the floor between them leaving moisture pooling at the corners of Felix’s eyes.

“You… wanted to marry me?”

It’s unfathomable. It’s outlandish and impossible and all things incomprehensible but God, if Felix doesn’t want it with a burning passion that threatens to disintegrate him from the inside out.

“ _Want_ to marry you. Still do.” Sylvain flashes him that crooked grin that he loves oh so much. So much so that his heart rends every time he sees it and fills him with so much love that he finds himself uncharacteristically stepping off the metaphorical ledge and praying that he can fly with his next words.

“Sylvain. Marry me. Right here, right now.”

This time it’s the red head’s turn to gawk and splutter, and damn if it doesn’t fill Felix with a giddy smugness.

“I’m sorry. _What_?”

“You heard me. Marry me. We’re in a church aren’t we? Isn’t that all churches are good for?”

Sylvain wants to scold him and tell him that churches are also for praying, but bites his tongue on the bitterness that begins to coat it; Sylvain used to pray, but what’s the point when no one really listens?

(Byleth wants to go to them. She really, truly, does. But even a Goddess is not all powerful.)

Instead, Sylvain wordlessly extends his hand towards Felix and pointedly keeps his gaze to the crumbling statue of Mother Mary and the large cross that hangs ominously over their heads. When he finally feels familiar calloused hands in his, he pulls and Felix allows himself to fall into warm arms that have made him feel loved for so many years.

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Words cannot describe how much I love you. You’ve always been there by my side, through thick and thin, and honestly, I don’t really deserve you. But I vow to keep striving to become a person who is worthy of your love. I vow to live my life to the fullest everyday to become a better person for you because you make me want to be a better person.”

Each promise is punctuated with a chaste peck on the lips, each filled with more love than the last until Sylvain is murmuring his words against the plushness of Felix’s mouth.

“I vow to love you until the day I die and to protect you with everything that I am. You are my family, Fe. You are my home. And I will always come back to you – no matter where, when, or what world; I swear, I will always find my way back to you.”

Felix buries one hand in the collar of Sylvain’s fur lined jacket while the other tangles in his hair, trying to desperately pull him closer even though they are already pressed up against each other, chest to chest and hip to hip.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier. You’re an absolute idiot if you don’t know how much I love you.”

(“ _Fe, why are you insulting me during our vows?” “shut up.”)_

“We’ve known each other forever and sometimes I take for granted just how much of my life you occupy until you’re suddenly not there, and all I’m left with is loneliness and a giant Sylvain shaped hole where my heart should be. I vow to never take you for granted ever again, because despite what you think, you are worthy of love, Sylvain. And you deserve to be happy.”

Something wet plops onto Felix’s cheek but he pays it no mind and continues with his vows, keeping his temple pressed against Sylvain’s jawline and his eyes closed.

“I vow to live by your side for the rest of my days so that I can remind you of that when the voices in your head become too loud. But above all, I vow to love you in such a way that lets you be the Sylvain that you really are, wholly and unapologetically so that you never have to hide behind a fake smile ever again. You are my home, Sylvain. I’ll always come home to you.”

When Felix raises his gaze to look at Sylvain, he cannot help but smile fondly at the teary, lovestruck expression on his face.

“You don’t have to cry about it, dummy.” He says, even as he raises himself on his tip toes to kiss away the droplets clinging to wispy lashes.

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, clinging to each other in this space that they have made their vows and tied their lives together in the way that they should have long ago. They continue holding each other even as the night falls and the chill settles in, and into the morning when the tell-tale sound of unearthly groaning arrives at their doorstep.

“You have my back?” Felix asks completely nonchalantly as he unsheathes his katana and falls into a battle stance that he has long since mastered from after school lessons and then polished in real life survival.

Sylvain grins at his husband from his position perched on the highest ground available, his rifle and scope already set up and a variety of other guns, locked and loaded, littered around him.

“Always.”

\----

Byleth dreads the day that Felix and Sylvain’s souls reach the end of their life spans and fizzle into nothingness, dissolving back to the void from which all souls are created and returned. But until that day comes, she continues to watch over them as they are born, and as they grow and fall in love over and over again.

Sometimes she will be allowed to step in and take a more active role in their stories, but in the times that she cannot, she knows without a doubt that they’ll be okay.

Because, after all, even if they weren’t soulmates, Byleth knows without a shadow of a doubt that Felix will always choose Sylvain, and Sylvain will always find his way back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Please follow me on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PopoWrites) if you want to know my fic progress or when I put up new content!  
> I also post content on my [Tumblr](https://thepandapopo.tumblr.com/) as well :)


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